<h1 id="title">The Passionate Pilgrim</h1>


<section class="stanza">
<h2 class="stanzanum">I</h2>
<section class="quatrain">
  <p>When my love swears that she is made of truth,</p>
  <p>I do believe her (though I know she lies)</p>
  <p>That she might think me some untutor’d youth,</p>
  <p>Unskillful in the world’s false forgeries.</p>
</section>
<section class="quatrain">
  <p>Thus vainly thinking that she thinks me young,</p>
  <p>Although I know my years be past the best,</p>
  <p>I smiling credit her false-speaking tongue,</p>
  <p>Outfacing faults in love with love’s ill rest.</p>
</section>
<section class="quatrain">
  <p>But wherefore says my love that she is young?</p>
  <p>And wherefore say not I that I am old?</p>
  <p>O, love’s best habit’s in a soothing tongue,</p>
  <p>And age in love, loves not to have years told.</p>
</section>
<section class="couplet">
  <p>Therefore I’ll lie with love, and love with me,</p>
  <p>Since that our faults in love thus smother’d be.</p>
</section>
</section>

<section class="stanza">
<h2 class="stanzanum">II</h2>
<section class="quatrain">
  <p>Two loves I have, of comfort and despair,</p>
  <p>That like two spirits do suggest me still:</p>
  <p>My better angel is a man (right fair),</p>
  <p>My worser spirit a woman (color’d ill).</p>
</section>
<section class="quatrain">
  <p>To win me soon to hell, my female evil</p>
  <p>Tempteth my better angel from my side;</p>
  <p>And would corrupt my saint to be a devil,</p>
  <p>Wooing his purity with her fair pride.</p>
</section>
<section class="quatrain">
  <p>And whether that my angel be turn’d fiend,</p>
  <p>Suspect I may (yet not directly tell):</p>
  <p>For being both to me, both to each friend,</p>
  <p>I guess one angel in another’s hell:</p>
</section>
<section class="couplet">
  <p>The truth I shall not know, but live in doubt,</p>
  <p>Till my bad angel fire my good one out.</p>
</section>
</section>

<section class="stanza">
<h2 class="stanzanum">III</h2>
<section class="quatrain">
  <p>Did not the heavenly rhetoric of thine eye,</p>
  <p>’Gainst whom the world could not hold argument,</p>
  <p>Persuade my heart to this false perjury?</p>
  <p>Vows for thee broke deserve not punishment.</p>
</section>
<section class="quatrain">
  <p>A woman I forswore; but I will prove,</p>
  <p>Thou being a goddess, I forswore not thee:</p>
  <p>My vow was earthly, thou a heavenly love;</p>
  <p>Thy grace being gain’d cures all disgrace in me.</p>
</section>
<section class="quatrain">
  <p>My vow was breath, and breath a vapor is,</p>
  <p>Then thou, fair sun, that on this earth doth shine,</p>
  <p>Exhal’st this vapor vow, in thee it is:</p>
  <p>If broken, then it is no fault of mine.</p>
</section>
<section class="couplet">
  <p>If by me broke, what fool is not so wise</p>
  <p>To break an oath, to win a paradise?</p>
</section>
</section>

<section class="stanza">
<h2 class="stanzanum">IV</h2>
<section class="quatrain">
  <p>Sweet Cytherea, sitting by a brook</p>
  <p>With young Adonis, lovely, fresh, and green,</p>
  <p>Did court the lad with many a lovely look,</p>
  <p>Such looks as none could look but beauty’s queen.</p>
</section>
<section class="quatrain">
  <p>She told him stories to delight his ear;</p>
  <p>She show’d him favors to allure his eye;</p>
  <p>To win his heart she touch’d him here and thereâ€”</p>
  <p>Touches so soft still conquer chastity.</p>
</section>
<section class="quatrain">
  <p>But whether unripe years did want conceit,</p>
  <p>Or he refus’d to take her figured proffer,</p>
  <p>The tender nibbler would not touch the bait,</p>
  <p>But smile and jest at every gentle offer.</p>
</section>
<section class="couplet">
  <p>Then fell she on her back, fair queen, and toward:</p>
  <p>He rose and ran away, ah, fool too froward!</p>
</section>
</section>

<section class="stanza">
<h2 class="stanzanum">V</h2>
<section class="quatrain">
  <p>If love make me forsworn, how shall I swear to love?</p>
  <p>O, never faith could hold, if not to beauty vowed:</p>
  <p>Though to myself forsworn, to thee I’ll constant prove;</p>
  <p>Those thoughts to me like oaks, to thee like osiers bowed.</p>
</section>
<section class="quatrain">
  <p>Study his bias leaves, and makes his book thine eyes,</p>
  <p>Where all those pleasures live that art can comprehend.</p>
  <p>If knowledge be the mark, to know thee shall suffice:</p>
  <p>Well learned is that tongue that well can thee commend,</p>
</section>
<section class="quatrain">
  <p>All ignorant that soul that sees thee without wonder,</p>
  <p>Which is to me some praise, that I thy parts admire.</p>
  <p>Thine eye Jove’s lightning seems, thy voice his dreadful thunder,</p>
  <p>Which, not to anger bent, is music and sweet fire.</p>
</section>
<section class="couplet">
  <p>Celestial as thou art, O, do not love that wrong:</p>
  <p>To sing heaven’s praise with such an earthly tongue.</p>
</section>
</section>

<section class="stanza">
<h2 class="stanzanum">VI</h2>
<section class="quatrain">
  <p>Scarce had the sun dried up the dewy morn,</p>
  <p>And scarce the herd gone to the hedge for shade,</p>
  <p>When Cytherea (all in love forlorn)</p>
  <p>A longing tarriance for Adonis made</p>
</section>
<section class="quatrain">
  <p>Under an osier growing by a brook,</p>
  <p>A brook where Adon us’d to cool his spleen.</p>
  <p>Hot was the day, she hotter that did look</p>
  <p>For his approach, that often there had been.</p>
</section>
<section class="quatrain">
  <p>Anon he comes, and throws his mantle by,</p>
  <p>And stood stark naked on the brook’s green brim.</p>
  <p>The sun look’d on the world with glorious eye,</p>
  <p>Yet not so wistly as this queen on him.</p>
</section>
<section class="couplet">
  <p>He spying her, bounc’d in, whereas he stood;</p>
  <p>“O Jove,” quoth she, “why was not I a flood?”</p>
</section>
</section>

<section class="stanza">
<h2 class="stanzanum">VII</h2>
<section class="quatrain">
  <p>Fair is my love, but not so fair as fickle,</p>
  <p>Mild as a dove, but neither true nor trusty,</p>
  <p>Brighter than glass, and yet as glass is brittle,</p>
  <p>Softer than wax, and yet as iron rusty:</p>
</section>
<section class="couplet">
  <p>A lily pale, with damask dye to grace her,</p>
  <p>None fairer, nor none falser to deface her.</p>
</section>

<section class="stanzasmall">
<section class="quatrain">
  <p>Her lips to mine how often hath she joined,</p>
  <p>Between each kiss her oaths of true love swearing!</p>
  <p>How many tales to please me hath she coined,</p>
  <p>Dreading my love, the loss whereof still fearing!</p>
</section>
<section class="couplet">
  <p>Yet in the midst of all her pure protestings,</p>
  <p>Her faith, her oaths, her tears, and all were jestings.</p>
</section>
</section>

<section class="stanzasmall">
<section class="quatrain">
  <p>She burnt with love, as straw with fire flameth,</p>
  <p>She burnt out love, as soon as straw out-burneth;</p>
  <p>She fram’d the love, and yet she foil’d the framing,</p>
  <p>She bade love last, and yet she fell a-turning.</p>
</section>
<section class="couplet">
  <p>Was this a lover, or a lecher whether?</p>
  <p>Bad in the best, though excellent in neither.</p>
</section>
</section>
</section>

<section class="stanza">
<h2 class="stanzanum">VIII</h2>
<section class="quatrain">
  <p>If music and sweet poetry agree,</p>
  <p>As they must needs (the sister and the brother),</p>
  <p>Then must the love be great ’twixt thee and me,</p>
  <p>Because thou lov’st the one, and I the other.</p>
</section>
<section class="quatrain">
  <p>Dowland to thee is dear, whose heavenly touch</p>
  <p>Upon the lute doth ravish human sense;</p>
  <p>Spenser to me, whose deep conceit is such</p>
  <p>As passing all conceit, needs no defense.</p>
</section>
<section class="quatrain">
  <p>Thou lov’st to hear the sweet melodious sound</p>
  <p>That Phoebus’ lute, the queen of music, makes;</p>
  <p>And I in deep delight am chiefly drown’d</p>
  <p>When as himself to singing he betakes.</p>
</section>
<section class="couplet">
  <p>One god is god of both (as poets feign),</p>
  <p>One knight loves both, and both in thee remain.</p>
</section>
</section>

<section class="stanza">
<h2 class="stanzanum">IX</h2>
<section class="quatrain">
  <p>Fair was the morn when the fair queen of love,</p>
  <p>[. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ]</p>
  <p>Paler for sorrow than her milk-white dove,</p>
  <p>For Adon’s sake, a youngster proud and wild,</p>
</section>
<section class="quatrain">
  <p>Her stand she takes upon a steep-up hill.</p>
  <p>Anon Adonis comes with horn and hounds;</p>
  <p>She, silly queen, with more than love’s good will,</p>
  <p>Forbade the boy he should not pass those grounds.</p>
</section>
<section class="quatrain">
  <p>“Once,” quoth she, “did I see a fair sweet youth</p>
  <p>Here in these brakes deep-wounded with a boar,</p>
  <p>Deep in the thigh, a spectacle of ruth!</p>
  <p>See, in my thigh,” quoth she, “here was the sore.”</p>
</section>
<section class="couplet">
  <p>She showed hers, he saw more wounds than one,</p>
  <p>And blushing fled, and left her all alone.</p>
</section>
</section>

<section class="stanza">
<h2 class="stanzanum">X</h2>
<section class="quatrain">
  <p>Sweet rose, fair flower, untimely pluck’d, soon vaded,</p>
  <p>Pluck’d in the bud, and vaded in the spring!</p>
  <p>Bright orient pearl, alack, too timely shaded!</p>
  <p>Fair creature, kill’d too soon by death’s sharp sting!</p>
</section>
<section class="couplet">
  <p>Like a green plum that hangs upon a tree,</p>
  <p>And falls (through wind) before the fall should be.</p>
</section>

<section class="stanzasmall">
<section class="quatrain">
  <p>I weep for thee, and yet no cause I have,</p>
  <p>For why: thou lefts me nothing in thy will;</p>
  <p>And yet thou lefts me more than I did crave,</p>
  <p>For why: I craved nothing of thee still.</p>
</section>
<section class="couplet">
  <p>O yes, dear friend, I pardon crave of thee,</p>
  <p>Thy discontent thou didst bequeath to me.</p>
</section>
</section>
</section>

<section class="stanza">
<h2 class="stanzanum">XI</h2>
<section class="quatrain">
  <p>Venus, with Adonis sitting by her,</p>
  <p>Under a myrtle shade began to woo him.</p>
  <p>She told the youngling how god Mars did try her,</p>
  <p>And as he fell to her, she fell to him.</p>
</section>
<section class="quatrain">
  <p>“Even thus,” quoth she, “the warlike god embrac’d me,”</p>
  <p>And then she clipt Adonis in her arms;</p>
  <p>“Even thus,” quoth she, “the warlike god unlac’d me,”</p>
  <p>As if the boy should use like loving charms;</p>
</section>
<section class="quatrain">
  <p>“Even thus,” quoth she, “he seized on my lips,”</p>
  <p>And with her lips on his did act the seizure:</p>
  <p>And as she fetched breath, away he skips,</p>
  <p>And would not take her meaning nor her pleasure.</p>
</section>
<section class="couplet">
  <p>Ah, that I had my lady at this bay:</p>
  <p>To kiss and clip me till I run away!</p>
</section>
</section>

<section class="stanza">
<h2 class="stanzanum">XII</h2>
<section class="quatrain">
  <p>Crabbed age and youth cannot live together:</p>
  <p>Youth is full of pleasance, age is full of care,</p>
  <p>Youth like summer morn, age like winter weather,</p>
  <p>Youth like summer brave, age like winter bare.</p>
</section>
<section class="quatrain">
  <p>Youth is full of sport, age’s breath is short,</p>
  <p>Youth is nimble, age is lame,</p>
  <p>Youth is hot and bold, age is weak and cold,</p>
  <p>Youth is wild, and age is tame.</p>
</section>
<section class="quatrain">
<section class="couplet">
  <p>Age, I do abhor thee, youth, I do adore thee:</p>
  <p>O, my love, my love is young!</p>
</section>
<section class="couplet">
  <p>Age, I do defy thee. O sweet shepherd, hie thee,</p>
  <p>For methinks thou stays too long.</p>
</section>
</section>
</section>

<section class="stanza">
<h2 class="stanzanum">XIII</h2>
<section class="quatrain">
  <p>Beauty is but a vain and doubtful good,</p>
  <p>A shining gloss that vadeth suddenly,</p>
  <p>A flower that dies when first it gins to bud,</p>
  <p>A brittle glass that’s broken presently:</p>
</section>
<section class="couplet">
  <p>A doubtful good, a gloss, a glass, a flower,</p>
  <p>Lost, vaded, broken, dead within an hour.</p>
</section>
</section>

<section class="stanzasmall">
<section class="quatrain">
  <p>And as goods lost are seld or never found,</p>
  <p>As vaded gloss no rubbing will refresh,</p>
  <p>As flowers dead lie withered on the ground,</p>
  <p>As broken glass no cement can redress:</p>
</section>
<section class="couplet">
  <p>So beauty blemish’d once, forever lost,</p>
  <p>In spite of physic, painting, pain, and cost.</p>
</section>
</section>

<section class="stanza">
<h2 class="stanzanum">XIV</h2>
<section class="quatrain">
  <p>Good night, good rest, ah, neither be my share!</p>
  <p>She bade good night that kept my rest away,</p>
  <p>And daff’d me to a cabin hang’d with care,</p>
  <p>To descant on the doubts of my decay.</p>
</section>
<section class="couplet">
  <p>“Farewell,” quoth she, “and come again tomorrow.”</p>
  <p>Fare well I could not, for I supp’d with sorrow.</p>
</section>

<section class="stanzasmall">
<section class="quatrain">
  <p>Yet at my parting sweetly did she smile,</p>
  <p>In scorn or friendship, nill I conster whether.</p>
  <p>’T may be she joy’d to jest at my exile,</p>
  <p>’T may be again, to make me wander thither:</p>
</section>
<section class="couplet">
  <p>“Wander,” a word for shadows like myself,</p>
  <p>As take the pain but cannot pluck the pelf.</p>
</section>
</section>

<section class="stanzasmall">
<section class="quatrain">
  <p>Lord, how mine eyes throw gazes to the east!</p>
  <p>My heart doth charge the watch; the morning rise</p>
  <p>Doth cite each moving sense from idle rest,</p>
  <p>Not daring trust the office of mine eyes.</p>
</section>
<section class="couplet">
  <p>While Philomela sits and sings, I sit and mark,</p>
  <p>And wish her lays were tuned like the lark.</p>
</section>
</section>

<section class="stanzasmall">
<section class="quatrain">
  <p>For she doth welcome daylight with her ditty,</p>
  <p>And drives away dark dreaming night.</p>
  <p>The night so pack’d, I post unto my pretty;</p>
  <p>Heart hath his hope, and eyes their wished sight:</p>
</section>
<section class="couplet">
  <p>Sorrow chang’d to solace, and solace mix’d with sorrow;</p>
  <p>For why, she sight, and bade me come tomorrow.</p>
</section>
</section>

<section class="stanzasmall">
<section class="quatrain">
  <p>Were I with her, the night would post too soon,</p>
  <p>But now are minutes added to the hours;</p>
  <p>To spite me now, each minute seems a moon,</p>
  <p>Yet not for me, shine sun to succor flowers!</p>
</section>
<section class="couplet">
  <p>Pack night, peep day; good day, of night now borrow:</p>
  <p>Short night tonight, and length thyself tomorrow.</p>
</section>
</section>

</section>

<h2 class="subtitle">Sonnets to Sundry Notes of Music</h2>


<section class="stanza">
<h2 class="stanzanum">XV</h2>
  <p>It was a lording’s daughter, the fairest one of three,</p>
  <p>That liked of her master, as well as well might be,</p>

<section class="stanzasmall">
  <p>Till looking on an Englishman, the fairest that eye could see,</p>
  <p>Her fancy fell a-turning.</p>
<section class="tercet">
  <p>Long was the combat doubtful, that love with love did fight,</p>
  <p>To leave the master loveless, or kill the gallant knight:</p>
  <p>To put in practice either, alas, it was a spite</p>
</section>
  <p>Unto the silly damsel!</p>
<section class="tercet">
  <p>But one must be refused; more mickle was the pain,</p>
  <p>That nothing could be used, to turn them both to gain,</p>
  <p>For of the two the trusty knight was wounded with disdain:</p>
</section>
  <p>Alas, she could not help it!</p>
<section class="tercet">
  <p>Thus art with arms contending was victor of the day,</p>
  <p>Which by a gift of learning did bear the maid away:</p>
  <p>Then lullaby, the learned man hath got the lady gay,</p>
</section>
  <p>For now my song is ended.</p>
</section>

</section>

<section class="stanza">
<h2 class="stanzanum">XVI</h2>
  <p>On a day (alack the day!)</p>
  <p>Love, whose month was ever May,</p>
  <p>Spied a blossom passing fair,</p>
  <p>Playing in the wanton air.</p>
  <p>Through the velvet leaves the wind</p>
  <p>All unseen gan passage find,</p>
  <p>That the lover, sick to death,</p>
  <p>Wish’d himself the heavens’ breath.</p>
  <p>“Air,” quoth he, “thy cheeks may blow,</p>
  <p>Air, would I might triumph so!</p>
  <p>But (alas) my hand hath sworn</p>
  <p>Ne’er to pluck thee from thy thorn,</p>
  <p>Vow (alack) for youth unmeet,</p>
  <p>Youth, so apt to pluck a sweet.</p>
  <p>Thou for whom Jove would swear</p>
  <p>Juno but an Ethiope were,</p>
  <p>And deny himself for Jove,</p>
  <p>Turning mortal for thy love.”</p>

<section class="stanzasmall">
<h2 class="stanzanum">XVII</h2>
  <p>My flocks feed not, my ewes breed not,</p>
  <p>My rams speed not, all is amiss;</p>
  <p>Love is dying, faith’s defying,</p>
  <p>Heart’s denying, causer of this.</p>
  <p>All my merry jigs are quite forgot,</p>
  <p>All my lady’s love is lost, God wot.</p>
  <p>Where her faith was firmly fix’d in love,</p>
  <p>There a nay is plac’d without remove.</p>
<section class="quatrain">
  <p>One silly cross wrought all my loss,</p>
  <p>O frowning Fortune, cursed, fickle dame!</p>
  <p>For now I see inconstancy</p>
  <p>More in women than in men remain.</p>
</section>
</section>

<section class="stanzasmall">
  <p>In black mourn I, all fears scorn I,</p>
  <p>Love hath forlorn me, living in thrall;</p>
  <p>Heart is bleeding, all help needing,</p>
  <p>O cruel speeding, fraughted with gall.</p>
  <p>My shepherd’s pipe can sound no deal,</p>
  <p>My wether’s bell rings doleful knell,</p>
  <p>My curtal dog, that wont to have play’d,</p>
  <p>Plays not at all, but seems afraid;</p>
<section class="quatrain">
  <p>With sighs so deep procures to weep,</p>
  <p>In howling wise, to see my doleful plight.</p>
  <p>How sighs resound through heartless ground,</p>
  <p>Like a thousand vanquish’d men in bloody fight!</p>
</section>
</section>

<section class="stanzasmall">
  <p>Clear wells spring not, sweet birds sing not,</p>
  <p>Green plants bring not forth their dye;</p>
  <p>Herds stands weeping, flocks all sleeping,</p>
  <p>Nymphs back peeping fearfully.</p>
  <p>All our pleasure known to us poor swains,</p>
  <p>All our merry meetings on the plains,</p>
  <p>All our evening sport from us is fled,</p>
  <p>All our love is lost, for Love is dead.</p>
<section class="quatrain">
  <p>Farewell, sweet lass, thy like ne’er was</p>
  <p>For a sweet content, the cause of all my moan.</p>
  <p>Poor Corydon must live alone,</p>
  <p>Other help for him I see that there is none.</p>
</section>
</section>
</section>

<section class="stanza">
<h2 class="stanzanum">XVIII</h2>
<section class="quatrain">
  <p>When as thine eye hath chose the dame,</p>
  <p>And stall’d the deer that thou shouldst strike,</p>
  <p>Let reason rule things worthy blame,</p>
  <p>As well as fancy, partial might.</p>
</section>
<section class="couplet">
  <p>Take counsel of some wiser head,</p>
  <p>Neither too young nor yet unwed.</p>
</section>

<section class="stanzasmall">
<section class="quatrain">
  <p>And when thou com’st thy tale to tell,</p>
  <p>Smooth not thy tongue with filed talk,</p>
  <p>Lest she some subtile practice smellâ€”</p>
  <p>A cripple soon can find a haltâ€”</p>
</section>
<section class="couplet">
  <p>But plainly say thou lov’st her well,</p>
  <p>And set her person forth to sale.</p>
</section>
</section>

<section class="stanzasmall">
<section class="quatrain">
  <p>And to her will frame all thy ways,</p>
  <p>Spare not to spend, and chiefly there</p>
  <p>Where thy desert may merit praise,</p>
  <p>By ringing in thy lady’s ear.</p>
</section>
<section class="couplet">
  <p>The strongest castle, tower, and town,</p>
  <p>The golden bullet beats it down.</p>
</section>
</section>

<section class="stanzasmall">
<section class="quatrain">
  <p>Serve always with assured trust,</p>
  <p>And in thy suit be humble true;</p>
  <p>Unless thy lady prove unjust,</p>
  <p>Press never thou to choose anew.</p>
</section>
<section class="couplet">
  <p>When time shall serve, be thou not slack</p>
  <p>To proffer, though she put thee back.</p>
</section>
</section>

<section class="stanzasmall">
<section class="quatrain">
  <p>What though her frowning brows be bent,</p>
  <p>Her cloudy looks will calm yer night,</p>
  <p>And then too late she will repent,</p>
  <p>That thus dissembled her delight;</p>
</section>
<section class="couplet">
  <p>And twice desire, yer it be day,</p>
  <p>That which with scorn she put away.</p>
</section>
</section>

<section class="stanzasmall">
<section class="quatrain">
  <p>What though she strive to try her strength,</p>
  <p>And ban and brawl, and say thee nay,</p>
  <p>Her feeble force will yield at length,</p>
  <p>When craft hath taught her thus to say:</p>
</section>
<section class="couplet">
  <p>“Had women been so strong as men,</p>
  <p>In faith, you had not had it then.”</p>
</section>
</section>

<section class="stanzasmall">
<section class="quatrain">
  <p>The wiles and guiles that women work,</p>
  <p>Dissembled with an outward show,</p>
  <p>The tricks and toys that in them lurk,</p>
  <p>The cock that treads them shall not know.</p>
</section>
<section class="couplet">
  <p>Have you not heard it said full oft,</p>
  <p>A woman’s nay doth stand for nought?</p>
</section>
</section>

<section class="stanzasmall">
<section class="quatrain">
  <p>Think women still to strive with men,</p>
  <p>To sin and never for to saint:</p>
  <p>There is no heaven, be holy then,</p>
  <p>When time with age shall them attaint.</p>
</section>
<section class="couplet">
  <p>Were kisses all the joys in bed,</p>
  <p>One woman would another wed.</p>
</section>
</section>

<section class="stanzasmall">
<section class="quatrain">
  <p>But soft, enoughâ€”too much, I fearâ€”</p>
  <p>Lest that my mistress hear my song;</p>
  <p>She will not stick to round me on th’ ear,</p>
  <p>To teach my tongue to be so long.</p>
</section>
<section class="couplet">
  <p>Yet will she blush, here be it said,</p>
  <p>To hear her secrets so bewray’d.</p>
</section>
</section>

</section>

<section class="stanza">
<h2 class="stanzanum">XIX</h2>
<section class="quatrain">
  <p>Live with me and be my love,</p>
  <p>And we will all the pleasures prove</p>
  <p>That hills and valleys, dales and fields,</p>
  <p>And all the craggy mountains yield.</p>
</section>

<section class="stanzasmall">
<section class="quatrain">
  <p>There will we sit upon the rocks,</p>
  <p>And see the shepherds feed their flocks,</p>
  <p>By shallow rivers, by whose falls</p>
  <p>Melodious birds sing madrigals.</p>
</section>
</section>

<section class="stanzasmall">
<section class="quatrain">
  <p>There will I make thee a bed of roses,</p>
  <p>With a thousand fragrant posies,</p>
  <p>A cap of flowers, and a kirtle</p>
  <p>Embroidered all with leaves of myrtle;</p>
</section>
</section>

<section class="stanzasmall">
<section class="quatrain">
  <p>A belt of straw and ivy buds,</p>
  <p>With coral clasps and amber studs:</p>
  <p>And if these pleasures may thee move,</p>
  <p>Then live with me, and be my love.</p>
</section>
</section>

<h2 class="subtitle">Love’s Answer</h2>


<section class="stanzasmall">
<section class="quatrain">
  <p>If that the world and love were young,</p>
  <p>And truth in every shepherd’s tongue,</p>
  <p>These pretty pleasures might me move,</p>
  <p>To live with thee and be thy love.</p>
</section>
</section>

</section>

<section class="stanza">
<h2 class="stanzanum">XX</h2>
  <p>As it fell upon a day,</p>
  <p>In the merry month of May,</p>
  <p>Sitting in a pleasant shade,</p>
  <p>Which a grove of myrtles made,</p>
  <p>Beasts did leap and birds did sing,</p>
  <p>Trees did grow and plants did spring;</p>
  <p>Every thing did banish moan,</p>
  <p>Save the nightingale alone.</p>
  <p>She, poor bird, as all forlorn,</p>
  <p>Lean’d her breast up-till a thorn,</p>
  <p>And there sung the dolefull’st ditty,</p>
  <p>That to hear it was great pity.</p>
  <p>“Fie, fie, fie,” now would she cry,</p>
  <p>“Tereu, tereu,” by and by;</p>
  <p>That to hear her so complain,</p>
  <p>Scarce I could from tears refrain;</p>
  <p>For her griefs, so lively shown,</p>
  <p>Made me think upon mine own.</p>
  <p>Ah, thought I, thou mourn’st in vain,</p>
  <p>None takes pity on thy pain.</p>
  <p>Senseless trees, they cannot hear thee,</p>
  <p>Ruthless bears, they will not cheer thee.</p>
  <p>King Pandion, he is dead:</p>
  <p>All thy friends are lapp’d in lead;</p>
  <p>All thy fellow birds do sing,</p>
  <p>Careless of thy sorrowing.</p>
  <p>Whilst as fickle Fortune smil’d,</p>
  <p>Thou and I were both beguil’d.</p>
  <p>Every one that flatters thee</p>
  <p>Is no friend in misery.</p>
  <p>Words are easy, like the wind,</p>
  <p>Faithful friends are hard to find:</p>
  <p>Every man will be thy friend,</p>
  <p>Whilst thou hast wherewith to spend;</p>
  <p>But if store of crowns be scant,</p>
  <p>No man will supply thy want.</p>
  <p>If that one be prodigal,</p>
  <p>Bountiful they will him call;</p>

<section class="stanzasmall">
  <p>And with such-like flattering,</p>
  <p>“Pity but he were a king!”</p>
  <p>If he be addict to vice,</p>
  <p>Quickly him they will entice;</p>
  <p>If to women he be bent,</p>
  <p>They have at commandment.</p>
  <p>But if Fortune once do frown,</p>
  <p>Then farewell his great renown;</p>
  <p>They that fawn’d on him before</p>
  <p>Use his company no more.</p>
  <p>He that is thy friend indeed,</p>
  <p>He will help thee in thy need:</p>
  <p>If thou sorrow, he will weep;</p>
  <p>If thou wake, he cannot sleep;</p>
  <p>Thus of every grief in heart</p>
  <p>He with thee doth bear a part.</p>
  <p>These are certain signs to know</p>
  <p>Faithful friend from flatt’ring foe.</p>
</section>

</section>

